Chapter 7: Messy Rooms and Softer Nights
When the bathroom door finally opened, a wave of warm steam rolled out before Noel stepped through, towel slung low around his hips, wet hair pushed back, droplets still clinging to his collarbones.
He moved with the quiet efficiency of someone who didn’t want to engage—just get from point A to point B without attracting attention.
But then he stopped halfway to his dresser.
He looked around.
Eyes on the half-empty soda cups, the grease-stained paper bag wedged into the corner of the desk, the crumpled napkin dangling off his chair.
"You really messed this room," he said flatly, voice low and damp from the steam. "Again."
Luca glanced around like he hadn’t noticed until just now. "It’s not that bad."
"It’s exactly that bad."
"I mean, I was gaming. I got hungry. You were gone."
"So that makes it okay to use my chair for your hoodie?"
Luca shrugged, flashing a crooked smile. "It looked lonely."